Crayons
by AliLamba
Summary: Two-Shot, Jate // A response to the episode, Eggtown, so inherent spoilers apply. It's pretty simplistic. Jack tries to follow up on Kate's invitation, is I suppose what I can say about it. Rating's up.
1. On the Charge of Iron Wheels

**CRAYONS  
By:** AliLamba  
**Notes:** Bah. This is in response to last night's episode (Eggtown), which I finished watching about four hours ago. Just sort of popped into my head, and this is sort of infused with my own predictions over Aaron's story. It's un-beta-ed, and was written very quickly. Oh, and it's also my first serious attempt with J/ate, or LOST in general. Anyway, hope you enjoy. Especially if you enjoy this enough to leave a review...?

* * *

Jack stood on the doorstep, hands stuffed deep in the pockets of his slacks. His gaze flicked between the door and the colorful, organized garden that decorated the front lawn. 

Nothing had ever been so hard.

He breathed deep; air circulating in, and out with sharpened effort, when his gaze fell on a small stretch of concrete hidden by the small stoop he was standing on.

Aaron.

The writing was coarse, and uneven until the very end, where it was obvious the fingers of another had finished his name.

Which was why he was here. Almost. Yes, almost…

There was so much—so much inside of him, that every time he pinpointed one emotion, another spawned, until he was so confused and upset and _angry_ that he ended up here…on her (no, their) doorstep.

Jack concentrated his gaze on his shoes, used one to gently scrape something indistinguishable from the other. He was stalling, that much was obvious. Suddenly uncomfortable, Jack rolled his shoulders and raked a hand over his head, scratching an itch that wasn't there. He squatted on the short stoop, then sat, setting his feet on the path in front of him and leaning his arms on his knees. His hand held his face, the other lying limp.

"Aaron, wait!" the laughing voice came from behind him, and Jack spun around in stunned surprise, just in time to see the door fly open, and the tiny frame of a four year old boy stop just inside the doorway.

"Aaron—" and then she was there. The words she was about to say died on her lips, were sucked into a gasp that made her freeze. Jack's gaze was locked on her face, and he couldn't move. _My God_, he thought in a heartbeat, _she's so beautiful_.

Her hair was loose around her face, and she wore a simple tank top with an old pair of jeans. Only a hint of makeup graced her features—a stroke of mascara, the touch of blush. If it weren't for the tailored way the jeans hugged her curves, he could have guessed that they were still back…

Jack let out his breath and stood awkwardly, his hands dusting invisible dirt off his thighs. His lips drew closed in a controlled smile, and he nodded to Kate, whose lower lip was sagging just the smallest bit in uninhibited surprise.

And then Jack's gaze fell on Aaron.

The boy's emotionless expression was staring blankly in reply, his small hand still hidden behind the door. Jack bit back the rising sense of guilt that was attempting to blockade his throat.

"Hi Aaron," Jack started, then coughed to heal his hoarse voice, "I'm, uh…I'm Jack." Aaron started to fidget, dragging his foot across the wooden floor to meet his other, his free hand coming up to scratch his side. Jack chanced a glance up to Kate, met her eyes for a mere second before re-concentrating his effort on the child. "Do you remember me?"

"Jack," Kate breathed, diverting his attention, "Jack, what're you doin' here?" Her eyebrows were drawn together, though her exact reaction she kept guarded.

"I'm—" he started, and then had to look away from both of them, "I'm just trying, Kate."

"_Jack_?" Both adults turned to the boy, to the blonde child's upturned expression, as he gazed thoughtlessly in the older man's direction.

A slow, heady smile blossomed over Jack's mouth, and he almost laughed.

"Yes, Jack," he voiced, enthused, as Aaron took a small step towards him.

"Jack, we're going to go get cray-lons," Aaron enunciated, and he turned his head up to his mother, "We're going to get cray-lons."

Jack followed Aaron's gaze, and his smile only grew. She was already looking back at him, a small, secret smile struggling to be suppressed.

"Yes, we're going to get crayons."

* * *

Jack laughed later that afternoon, a warm welcome laugh that drew in the sunshine of Kate and Aaron's backyard. 

"Yes, that is indeed me, and that is indeed…an anal suppository."

He turned away from Aaron's colorful drawing of Jack-the-doctor and gave Kate an incredulous stare, implying quite overtly: _How do you teach him these things?_

Kate grinned and shrugged mysteriously, hiding her amusement with another long sip of her iced tea.

Jack smiled, his lips drawing closed over his teeth contentedly, and he forced himself to stop staring.

"He's great, you know." His voice was confident as he watched Aaron scribbling languidly on a new sheet of paper with his brand new crayons. "Really, I don't know why I was so hes…" the rhetorical question faded, and Jack suddenly felt the chill rise up again in his chest. He shook his head, and located the sweet drink Kate had provided, taking a quick sip.

A cool touch brushed against his free hand, and Jack quickly turned in Kate's direction. Her hair was now done up in a loose bun, exposing the tasteful silver flowers adorning her earlobes.

"I'm glad you're here, Jack," she whispered, her long fingers stretching around his hand, as she tucked her digits against his palm.

Jack's heart fluttered, and he tenderly squeezed her hand in return.

"Yeah, me too."

They settled into comfortable silence, both watching Aaron enjoy his new present.

And then the cold bile started to squirm within Jack's chest. His smile dropped as he involuntarily shrunk backwards, into the unyielding white plastic of the lawn chair. Images were bleeding into his conscious memory. Of Claire, and an Aaron not so much younger, of helicopters, and water, and _accidents_.

The glass of tea Jack was holding slipped from his grasp, landing on the grass lawn with a heavy _thud_. Jack stood abruptly, Kate's hand dropping from their loose grasp.

"Jack—?" It was a question, and Kate was startled into setting down her own condensation-coated drink.

"I'm sorry," his voice was hoarse again, and Jack's gaze was looking everywhere except the two people he was with, "I'm sorry, I can't." He located the side gate and started towards it, shaking his head against the memories that were now overwhelming his senses._Your fault_, his unconscious was whispering to him, _It's all your fault._

"Jack, wait." Kate had compelled herself to action, and Jack felt her fingers grasp the fabric of his sleeve. He stopped, and turned around, allowing Kate to see the childish tears that had sprung.

"Kate, it's my fault."

"No, Jack, he's happy. Look at him," she pleaded, indicating where Aaron was still sitting at his small, plastic table, staring back at them. "He's so happy. And he's loved."

The pain was infecting his blood stream, and Jack looked back to Kate. How could she—how could anyone understand what it was like, this responsibility. How could he even ask her to try.

And suddenly, Jack was wrapping his hand around the back of her neck, was drawing his lips against hers and provoking them to move. Kate's mouth responded readily, opening and allowing him to express everything he couldn't say: that he was sorry, that he wanted to be better, and that he loved her.

Jack pulled away slowly, resting his forehead against Kate's. Their breathing came against each other's erratically, tinged sweetly with tea.

"Jack please, don't go," she whispered, drawing her palm against his cheek. He leaned into her touch, longingly, and kissed her again.

Until something brushed against their legs, something small and slight at their side. Jack broke away and looked down, finding Aaron's upturned face.

Jack stepped backwards towards the wooden fence. His gaze sought Kate again, though now her head was drooped, her hand smoothing Aaron's hair as her son clutched her leg. She wasn't looking at him, and if Jack had looked closer, he would have noticed her closed eyes behind the strands of hair loosened from their knot, would've seen the small tears that curled at the corners of her eyes.

But instead Jack turned, unlocked the gate, and fled to his waiting car.

He needed a drink.


	2. And the Crash of Horse's Heels

**CRAYONS  
****(part two)  
****By:** AliLamba  
**Notes:** Dang it! I didn't mean to write this! Okay, I had no _intention_ of writing this at all, and then something like four of you put this on your "alert" list, and this is what happened. That's right, it's your fault P So you had better enjoy it, because I'm seriously serious now, this is all I can think of. Well, that's what I thought last time…Wait! No! Yes, definitely the last bit of this. I have some other ideas I've had swimming in my head even before I'd ever heard of Lost, so I want to work on that next. Oh, and if Jack seems little uncharacteristically cocky in this...well...I think so too.

* * *

The waves crashed over the shore like the water was trying to reach something, or trying to push something up onto the land; something which kept approaching its plateau before rolling back into a surf that just kept trying to keep it away.

From where he was sitting, taking small swigs from a water bottle, Jack could see practically everyone. Jin was trying to teach Bernard how to fish, though the overzealous older man was having a hard time keeping anything in his net each time the tide rolled back into the sea. Not so far away from them, Rose and Sun were giggling discretely, as Sun absently rubbed her extended belly. Hurley had been trying to teach himself rope knots lately, though every half hour he could be predicted to tromp back to where Sayid was trying to read, thick, heavy twine somehow irrevocably locking his wrists, thumbs (or toes) together.

Claire was sitting on the damp sand just at the edge of the surf, Aaron on her lap. They both were laughing excitedly each time waves crashed over their legs, Aaron clapping like mad when the water splashed into his reach.

Suddenly, Jack's vision went black. Velvety soft fingers wrapped around his eyes, and Jack couldn't help but smile. He was about to turn around, planning on grabbing the owner of those hands and tossing them into the ocean, when he felt the familiar chest against his back, and the curl of a whisper against his ear.

"_Boogeyman_," Kate whispered puckishly, followed by just a touch of her tongue against his earlobe. Jack felt himself stir, and turned to meet her, their lips touching languidly despite their lack of privacy.

"I was just thinking about you," Jack admitted after they parted, eyes watching her hair drift across her face, before he reached up to tuck the strands behind her ear.

Kate tried to suppress a grin, glancing into her lap to try and hide how much amused she was. "I told you," she joked, "Boogeyman."

He couldn't help but laugh softly at that, and he leaned in to kiss her again. But when her tongue once again left its cavern, to brush against his lower lip, Jack had to acknowledge their very public location.

"Hey now," his smile was teasing against her lips, and it was a pleasant thing to realize that her breath had quickened against his mouth, "Maybe we should take this inside."

"Oh yeah?" she murmured discretely, interrupting herself with chaste kisses, "Well, I think that might be difficult. Seeing, as, you know," she breathed into a particularly deep embrace, and Jack recognized it was a struggle to keep his hands at bay, "Desert island, and all." She sneaked a hand over his thigh, getting dangerously close…

Jack shot up practically like a rocket, and tried to make the action look natural with a casual sweep of his gaze around the beach. Kate was practically _giggling_, and he had to fix her with a sheepish stare. He offered a hand to help her stand, and she took it.

"Five minutes?" his eyebrows came up and together, and she nodded, the giggle practically still on her lips, before starting off towards the jungle.

Jack watched her walk away for a moment, before recalling the communal stretch of sand beneath his feet. Turning back to the ocean, Jack let his breath out in a slow hiss.

He heard something decisively like a 'whoop' to his left, and turned to see Hurley, Charlie and Sayid all grinning at him like idiots, Hurley's rope-entwined hands giving a very enthusiastic thumbs-up.

Jack tried to pull the grin back into his face, and shook his head, making the pretense of walking towards the tents; merely taking the long way to where he and Kate went together. It took him farther away from those goons, anyway.

Theirs was a poor excuse for a love-nest; over the last few months they'd managed to get together some of the softer plants on the island, and the small cavern they used either had to be stumbled on completely by accident, or by someone who'd been there before. Even tracking people to it was next to impossible, as some of the more nosy islanders had learned.

"Jack…" Kate whispered his name when she saw him, smiling, and he unconsciously sped up to envelop her in a tight embrace. She started to say his name again, but he kissed her, only deepened it when she smiled against his lips and tried to pry herself from his chest. A deep-seeded _ngh_ protested from deep within Jack's vocal cords, and he swept Kate into his arms, drawing them both down onto the bed of leaves and soft moss.

"_Jack_…" she whispered again when he moved to her neck, looking for the sweet spot that made her sigh. When she said his name again, her voice both unraveling and insistent, Jack finally had to draw his head away, though he couldn't stop the definite pout that marred his features, even if it wasn't his most overt expression. Kate's smile softened, and she traced a hand along his jaw line. Her eyes followed her hand as it moved over his stubble, as her fingers glanced his ear. "Jack, I'm pregnant."

Jack's jaw went slack, a surprised 'oh' expelling on a short breath. His eyes glazed, and then he looked down to her abdomen, as if he was expecting to see the baby there already. Kate laughed, wetly, and Jack turned back to her face.

"Really?" he deigned to whisper, "Mine?"

Kate rolled her eyes around the tears that had sprung, though her smile defied how happy she actually was. "Of course," she laughed again, and suddenly, it was Jack who was grinning like a fool. He tried to say something, wanted to say something, but couldn't think of anything that would constitute his elation. So he kissed her again, and though she laughed against him, they swept readily into their act of love making, an exuberance motivating their limbs to express more.

The four-minute alarm sounded.

Jack's head jerked up, and in one quick motion his eyes swept the enclave.

"Jack?" her voice was tender and breathless.

"It's…nothing," Jack turned back to Kate, and smiled reassuringly, dipping his head to resume their kiss.

The four-minute alarm sounded again.

Jack froze, his eyes snapping open, and his neck inched up.

Kate let out a frustrated sigh. "_Jack_…"

"_Jack_."

His head whipped around at the new intonation of his name, coming from the mouth of the cave.

It was Claire. She was sobbing, holding Aaron at arms-length in his direction with trembling muscles. They were both smeared with blood, and under Jack's gaze, it was like someone had found the baby's volume—the once mute, gaping mouth of the baby boy slowly started to pour out the sounds of his wailing.

"_Jack_," Claire cried, "_Please, save us. Save Aaron_."

"Claire," Jack spoke as he stood, his eyes wide with shock, "Claire, what do you want me to do?"

"_Jack_," it was Kate, and he looked back down to her again, "Jack, I'm bleeding!" She was, the crux of her jeans blooming with an arc of deep, muddy red. Jack panicked and dropped to his knees, and his fingers flew to her fly.

From behind him, Claire screamed.

Jack jumped up and turned, watched with mounting horror as water started to pour into the mouth of the cave. It swelled around Claire's ankles, and she skipped in it, trying to get away like it was burning her bare skin.

The minute-alarm started to sound, and from everywhere, the _BEEP, BEEP, BEEP_ echoed off the walls.

"_Jack, help!_" it was Kate, and he turned around again, only to see her standing already, blood soaking jagged lines down the inside of her legs, but she was pointing back towards the entrance.

A bloated, lifeless body now came in on the rushing water, striped shirt and rubber bracelets on both wrists: Charlie. He came to a rest next to Claire's calves, where the water level was approaching her knees. Jack tried to run towards her and Aaron, but the liquid was suddenly like tar around his legs, trying to force him to stand still when every force in his body demanded that he move.

Another body rushed in, and then another. Shannon and Boone, Ana Lucia, Eko, Libby, then Juliet, then many, so many lifeless faces he didn't recognize.

_BEEP_, the alarm shrieked, _BEEP, BEEP, BEEP_. Aaron's crying reached a fever pitch, and Claire started screaming as she recognized Charlie's face. Kate was sobbing, and Jack furiously turned his head in all directions—"_STOP!_" he yelled, wrenching his legs against the mounting tide, "_This isn't real!_"

"No, it isn't real, Jack." The voice came from Jack's waist, and he turned in dread to see the colorless eyes of Locke, his scabbed, decomposing body floating against his torso. "You couldn't save them both, Jack." The pale, milky irises were turned on him, "And Claire's dead."

_No_. Jack turned to where the young mother had been standing, and his eyes widened as he saw baby Aaron floating on the water's surface. The baby's voice was now gone, though he clearly screamed, replaced by a dull hum that permeated everything. Kate was gliding through the water behind him, her hand clutching what could only be Claire's, though the young mother's body had disappeared beneath the water.

"Just tell me what I need to do!" Jack yelled, grasping Locke by his shoulders, "I'll make it right—I'll make it better! Just _tell me!_"

Locke's eyes looked up, as though he was thinking, though no other part was compelled into motion.

"You have to go back, Jack. You have to go back to the Island."

Jack woke up.

His eyes swept open with a snap, blurred focus sharpening to take in the polished surroundings of his apartment. He plied his head off the kitchen counter, his hand numbly reaching his cheek to wipe away the trail of saliva that had escaped his mouth in his dreaming. Absently, he watched his fingers as he went to wipe his hand on something, when he recognized blood. He gasped, then touched his fingers to his mouth again, but by then he could smell it.

Jack grabbed a paper towel and headed to the kitchen sink, where he cleaned and checked his face.

He made the mistake of closing his eyes as he did so.

_"Jack , I'm pregnant." _

It was Kate, appearing before his minds eye, her loose brown curls and light green eyes. Jack smiled though it felt forced, invoking the memory of his dream, of Kate curled within his arms. He let the image play in his mind as he pulled a clean glass from a kitchen cabinet and poked around in others for something to fill it with. He hadn't seen Kate in months, but that had never kept her from his thoughts. Jack frowned as he opened his liquor cabinet, and found it empty save for a few contentless bottles. He could have sworn he had bought some, the last time he was out… Jack moved his search into the living room.

Sure, the last time he had seen her, things hadn't gone…swimmingly, but she would come around. What they had on the Island…

_"You killed her, Jack. You killed Aaron's mother." _

Jack stilled. He shook his head to rid the more distasteful element of his mind's hallucination, promising never to drink and sleep again. He approached his liquor cabinet, and started to rummage through the bottles, his frown deepening as one empty container led to the next.

_"You have to go back to the Island, Jack." _

_No! _Jack yelled in his mind, and he started to scramble to find an unempty bottle, _No, I don't want to go back! _Jack hurled the glass remainder of a single-malt whiskey against the wall, didn't even flinch as the crash splintered tiny shards all over his polished wooden floor, scattering like a new deck of cards.

His hands clutched the sides of his head as he leaned over the cabinet, fingers digging into his skull as if they could suppress the illusions from pressure alone.

_No_, he whispered aloud, _No please, it's not fair_.

"_Jack_," his eyes opened at the sound of his name, whispered, close by, and turned. It was Juliet.

"Ho…how did you get in here?" Juliet smiled, sadly, and suddenly it became real to him: "You're not really here, are you."

She shook her head, slowly, then considered him as she chose her words. "Jack, I'm here, because…because you weren't meant to leave the Island. None of us were."

"_Shut up_," Jack's voice was now threatening, and he started towards the mirage standing in his foyer, "You shut up right now."

"You're drunk, Jack."

"_I know I'm fucking drunk!_" he sunk into one of his plush, leather armchairs, "I don't know what you expect from me!"

Juliet sighed, and the sound made Jack shut his eyes in protest. "She'll never love you here, like she did on the Island. You'll never let her."

"That's not true," Jack muttered, though tears were now flooding his eyes, and he wasn't sure why. "That's not true at all."

"Jack…" Juliet murmured, and she was suddenly kneeling in front of him, laying a hand on his knee, "Jack, you know what I say is true. In your heart, you already believe me."

Jack's watery glare stared angrily into Juliet's eyes, though she seemed unfazed by the hostility he tried to pour into her. He tried to think of something to say, but couldn't. The memories of what had happened back there had resurfaced in still images, and as the guilt tried to swim up his throat, Jack felt a tear escape down his cheek.

"You can't change what happened."

Juliet's eyes softened at his accusation, and she reached up to touch his hair. Jack flinched away from her, and she recoiled.

"You know that you need to," was all she said, and as Jack blinked away his tears, she was gone. He stayed in the armchair, hands rubbing his arms absently. He yearned for a drink, something to numb himself with, or at least lend him some control of the images he tried to bring to mind. Bringing a hand to his temple, Jack applied pressure, trying to recall the feel of her pressed against him, the sweetness of her breath…

But all that came back were muddied pictures of the Island, of things lost and never found.

_I need to go back_.

* * *

**End Notes:** Thanks for reading, and thank you to the lovely beta MoonlightGardenias, who really made this legible. If you liked it (or even didn't), please drop a review on your way out. If this chapter is any indication, I really enjoy reading your responses. Thanks! 


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